There’s nothing better than snuggling under a tirade of homemade quilts on a cold, nippy morning. It’s one of my favorite experiences that immediately takes me back to my growing up days on Galvin’s Creek, be it in my family home or spending the night in my Grandma Hudspeth’s house. In those days, central heat and AC was non-existent for most folks, and houses were heated by cozy fireplaces or butane heaters that clung to the wall emitting blue flames that warmed the bones and scorched anything that veered too close. Grandma’s house had an old fireplace that Paw himself chinked fresh every year with clay from the creekbank.